Chloe's Odyssey

By Cheri Gillard

Chloe’s single hope for setting the world right again—and bringing Horace back to life—is to time travel to an ancient civilization to find an earlier version of Horace. Then somehow she must convince him to kill his brother. And do it before his brother alters the timeline and ruins everything. Kaitlyn begs to go with Chloe so Kaitlyn’s unborn baby won’t be erased when the timeline is reset. But Chloe can’t risk losing her again in the past. She must go alone.
But there’s one catch: her only way back is to rely on Satarel, the very demon who moved through heaven and hell to destroy her before. Should she trust him? Few options remain but she’s got to get out of there. The terrifying place her world’s become is too awful to live in. But can she risk everything and trust a demon, her former enemy, to get her back to Horace?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheri Gillard
• Release date: Nov 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370894253

Cheri Gillard

Award-winning author Cheri Gillard has been a freelance writer and editor for twenty-five years, working for several publishing houses and companies as a writer or editor for projects, books, magazines, and curricula. She earned the coveted IndieB.R.A.G Medallion for "Chloe's Guardian," Book 1 of the Nephilim Redemption series, as well as winning several other awards for her fiction over her writing career. For several years, she was a judge for the Paul Gillette Memorial fiction writing contest. Before writing, she was an obstetric and NICU registered nurse, but she hung up her nurse's cap when she gave birth to quadruplets. She blogs about life raising quadruplets and shares photos at cheri_and_quads on Instagram. She lives with her family in Colorado.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Chloe couldn’t believe she was going to see Horace again. The darkness that had enveloped her for the last week since Pan beheaded Horace in Mile High Stadium had broken open, light had shone in. Now there was hope. Not only would she go back in Time and find Horace, but she would also do what was needed to change her world back to what it was supposed to be. Her parents would still be married. The microchips everyone had in their heads would be gone. And all the cars, appliances, and everything wouldn’t be voice-activated, automated, and advanced beyond anything in her own timeline—the real timeline. She would bring back the world that was supposed to exist, the way it had been before she and Kaitlyn had gone back in Time and Pan had stolen Kaitlyn’s cell phone and used it to change the entire world.

Chloe and those who knew the truth about Horace and their time travel were gathered around Rainbow’s beat-up yellow Formica kitchen table: Kaitlyn, Chloe’s best friend; Kaitlyn’s mom, Rainbow; and Kaitlyn’s new husband, John—the vicar she’d brought back with her from Scotland. Sixteenth century Scotland. Hovering over Chloe’s left shoulder and eating a Twinkie was the ghost of Billy, the boy-spirit Horace had brought back from heaven who loved Horace like a father and who would be escorting Chloe into the past to find an earlier version of Horace, who was still alive in the past. Together they would convince Horace—or Horatius as he was called in ancient times—that he had to kill his own brother, Panahasi, before Panahasi could alter the past and ruin Chloe’s life.

Chloe and Kaitlyn were trying to explain to Rainbow and John what had just happened that brought them racing back into the house with an energy they hadn’t had since Horace had been murdered. After explaining again that by killing Horace, Pan had won back his power from Lucifer and was flying with the other Fallen—that is, the other Fallen minus Satarel. Satarel was now in hiding from Lucifer, and Satarel and Pan were at war with each other since Satarel had chosen his older son Horace over Pan.

Now Chloe excitedly laid out how she simply had to go back to find the earlier version of Horace and win his trust—and convince him to kill Pan in the past so Pan wouldn’t be able to kill Horace in the future.

Wait now. Let me get this straight, Rainbow said earnestly, so different from her usual relaxed, carefree attitude. A demon—Horace’s father—said he would send you back to the past to find Horace and convince him to kill his brother. Then that would change everything and make Horace not dead?

Billy said, Tell them about me going with you. Tell them I’m going to help you time travel and find the right century.

Chloe and Kaitlyn were the only two who could hear and see Billy, but Rainbow could at least sense his presence. She was spiritually sensitive, tuned into unseen energies around her. But Kaitlyn’s husband, John, only had their word for it that Billy was there, and he was not happy with the idea of a ghost floating nearby. Rainbow and John also couldn’t see the Twinkies and donuts and cookies that Billy snatched and took with him into the Unseen Realm. But if he set them down, they would suddenly appear. At least Billy always finished his snacks, so the chance of things suddenly appearing and upsetting John was small. It was more likely food would unexpectedly disappear when Billy was around.

Hang on, Billy, Chloe said. We’ll get to that.

What? John said. Get to what? Is there more? I do not like what I am hearing. Kaitlyn, love, conspiring with a demon cannot be a good idea. How can you trust such a creature?

Tell him what I said, Billy insisted. That is why he needs to know I am going. Billy licked the last of the Twinkie cream from a finger. I am going to keep Chloe safe and make sure nothing happens, Billy explained to John even though John couldn’t hear him.

Billy had been only a young boy when he’d died, and even though he had new abilities that came with being a ghost, Chloe doubted he could do much to protect her. But she wouldn’t tell him she thought that. Billy was very proud of his abilities. Thinking he could protect Horace in a sword fight with a demented demon was the whole reason Billy had gotten killed. The fact that Satarel had agreed to entrust Chloe to Billy for their travels puffed up his tiny little chest with delight.

Let’s just keep to the basics for now, Chloe told Billy. To the others, she said, "It turns out, Horace’s father, Satarel, really did care about him. It’s important to him too that we go back and save Horace."

Why can’t he do it himself? Rainbow asked.

Aye, why not? Chloe, you should stay put. Let this Sat-whoever go in your stead, John said, putting a protective arm around Kaitlyn as if she were in danger just mentioning Satarel. Let him resolve it himself.

He can’t. He can’t move around freely. If other demons find out where he is, they’ll tell and Pan or Lucifer would come after him. He needs to send me.

Lucifer? John said with renewed alarm. As in Satan? Love, you must stop this. Chloe does not understand what she is dealing with.

It will be okay, John, Kaitlyn said. I think. Cello knows what she is doing. She’s done this before.

Wonderful Kaitlyn. Always thinking the best of people. She never doubted Chloe—or Cello as she’d called her since misreading Chloe as Chelo on her nametag in orchestra camp the summer before ninth grade. Kaitlyn trusted Chloe completely, even though Chloe had been responsible for getting Kaitlyn lost in medieval Scotland and abandoning her there. At least Kaitlyn had met John and he’d taken care of her until Horace could get back and bring her home. There’d been one catch though. While Kaitlyn was in Scotland, a lot more time had passed for her. She was now nearly twenty-one, three years older than Chloe, and she had a husband, plus a baby on the way.

If Chloe went back and succeeded, she didn’t know what would happen to Kaitlyn’s unborn baby or her marriage to John when Chloe changed everything back to the old, correct world. Neither the baby or marriage had existed before. Maybe she would undo Kaitlyn’s new life, but she couldn’t leave the world like it was. Even her sister Michelle had begged Chloe not to erase her present life. But Chloe couldn’t let Michelle talk her out of doing what was right. Nor could she be stopped by the inevitable guilt she’d feel if she erased her new half-sister Olivia, who had only come into existence when her dad married his new wife. If her parents had never divorced, her dad wouldn’t have remarried and Olivia wouldn’t have been born. All of it was too much to worry about. It wasn’t meant to be anyway. She had to go back, get Horace to stop Pan from altering reality, and change everything back to what it had been. If she kept thinking about it, she’d go crazy—and chicken out.

You’re sure about all this, right Cello? Kaitlyn asked.

I have to go. Yes. I’m sure. I have to be. It’s the only way.

***

The dimly lit, sordid lounge was a smart, strategic place for Satarel to hide. Lucifer would never stumble across him there, being too busy ruining rulers of nations and religious leaders to bother with corrupting the lost souls abiding in such a dive. Even the lowest of demons rarely gave the losers there a second thought. Their lives were already steeped in darkness. And Panahasi was surely too busy enjoying his new standing with Lucifer for delivering Horatius’ head to even think of his father. He certainly wouldn’t frequent such a sorry place in search of Satarel.

He sat at the bar, which doubled as a stage where dead-eyed women danced slowly on the polished wood. With Satarel sat three other demons who used to back him up when he’d tormented souls before he’d been evicted from his dilapidated house in the run-down neighborhood where he lived in Hades. All of his belongings had been thrown into a dumpster in Detroit. The demons assigned to dispose of his things must have had a good laugh over that.

How are you going to get back in? one of his demon companions asked.

Oh, I have a plan, Satarel boasted. Already in the works. It’s brilliant. My ward, that Chloe Dixon girl, was stupid enough to believe me when I told her I cared about Horatius, and she thinks I need her to travel back in the Chronos Band to straighten things out and save him. She believed every lie I fed her when I showed up disguised as a homeless beggar. She even agreed to take that meddling little ghost along with her. I can end her feckless existence on earth before she accomplishes anything worthwhile. It will be deliciously satisfying.

And what about your son, Horatius? one of them asked.

He is no longer my son. In any Time. He betrayed the Brethren with his pursuit of virtue. And he betrayed me. Though he is extinct now, if I encounter him in the past, I will do my utmost to ruin him.

Won’t he be surprised if he sees you and you turn on him? another said. I should like to see that!

Most satisfying, I’m sure, Satarel said with a straight face, not wanting to reveal any of his own deep reservations about it. It was his own business that it bothered him on some level that he had to forsake his son. It was especially disturbing, if he let himself ponder it, that Horatius simply craved the goodness that Satarel had known was the true way before that fateful day he chose to follow Lucifer. But he didn’t intend to ponder it at all. It was senseless to waste a moment on any of it. That bridge was burned. Or burning. In hell for all eternity. To cover his discomfort at even allowing himself that brief moment of honest reflection, he barked out a dry humorless laugh and raised his beer stein.

To surprises then, he said.

The other demons laughed too, oblivious to the turmoil broiling beneath Satarel’s aloof façade, as they lifted their mugs to their mouths—and their hungry eyes to the dancers on the bar in front of them.

CHAPTER 2

In her bedroom, Chloe was stuffing her backpack with every possible item she thought she might need to take into the past. She really had no idea what to pack, except absolutely everything. She put in walkie-talkies her brother Benji had gotten for Christmas, since cell phones wouldn’t work and she might need a way to communicate once she found Horace, if they got separated. Plus some extra batteries. Several granola bars and a couple of water bottles would hold her if she couldn’t find food right away. Her hair was going to be a problem, without her flat iron and some hair product. She’d have to resort to ponytails or braids to keep her crazy curls under control. Maybe she wouldn’t even be gone long enough to have to worry about doing her hair. But just in case, she included several stretchy bands and clips. She was cramming in her toothbrush and toothpaste when Kaitlyn peeked into her bedroom.

Hi. Michelle let me in.

Hey. Do you think I should take my iPod? Besides listening myself, I might even be able to use it to convince someone I can do magic.

I’m going to go with you.

Chloe stopped winding up the earbuds.

It almost sounded like you said you’re going with me. She started looping the wire again. Good thing you didn’t.

I did. I have to go. Tears spilled from Kaitlyn’s eyes, running down her porcelain cheeks.

Chloe tossed aside the earbuds, grabbed Kaitlyn’s hands, and sat with her on the edge of the bed. Kaitlyn’s smocked sundress poofed out, making her baby bump look bigger than it was.

What are you talking about? You can’t. It’s too dangerous. What about the baby?

"That’s why I have to go. If I stay and you change the timeline, there might not be a baby. Or John either. I don’t think he’ll come with us, or let me go, so I won’t ask. But even if things change back and John disappears, I’ll know he is still okay back where I found him. We can go get him again then. But Little Sprout won’t be anywhere. She just won’t be anymore. I can’t let that happen."

Chloe pulled her into a hug. Kaitlyn felt everything so deeply. And she already loved her baby so much she was willing to risk going back, even after all she’d been through. But Chloe couldn’t possibly let her go. It was too dangerous and Chloe couldn’t expose her to that kind of uncertainty. Kaitlyn had barely gotten back as it was, and that was with three years passing for her compared to Chloe’s two weeks. It was just too much of a gamble. But she didn’t think Kaitlyn cared about aging faster or risking her own safety. Chloe would have to find another argument to convince her.

I don’t think Satarel would let you go. It wasn’t a part of his bargain with us. You heard him when we arranged it. Remember? He didn’t sound like just anyone could tag along.

"But I’m not just anyone. This would affect me more than anyone. Or Little Sprout. It could really affect her. And I can’t let that happen."

But we almost lost you last time. We almost didn’t get you back.

I have to go. Just like you have to go to fix the world. We’ll go together.

Okay, if that’s what you want. I’m not taking you anywhere. Chloe didn’t know if Satarel would even agree to send Kaitlyn with her if she asked. But she wasn’t going to ask, though she couldn’t tell Kaitlyn that now. The last thing she wanted was to worry and upset her.

I think music will be nice, Kaitlyn said. The iPod. I think you’ll want it with you.

Michelle banged the door open. Are you coming or what? I don’t want to be late again.

I’m not going to school today, Chloe said.

Yes, you are. And you’re giving me a ride. Tony just said so. Chop, chop. Let’s go. I need time to talk to Claire and Bethany before class. Unless—Kaitlyn do you have your car? You guys can go together and be as late as you want. I’ll take the Jeep.

She tried to dash out of the room before Chloe could object, but Chloe grabbed her wrist before she got all the way out the door.

Wait. Come back here. You go with Kaitlyn. I need to keep the Jeep. I’m waiting for a call. I need to be ready.

What about me? Kaitlyn asked.

Oh yeah. I’ll come get you.

Ready for what? What are you up to? Michelle said. You’ve been acting weird. If you do something stupid, make sure Tony knows I had nothing to do with it. I don’t need him grounding the Jeep again. I have a life. Claire and I have plans. I need wheels. Michelle insisted on calling their dad Tony. She’d disowned him as her father and needed to remind everyone of it daily.

Just then Tony poked his head around the door jamb into their room.

You girls need to leave for school. Now. No more delinquencies. I have better things to do than answer calls from Officer Ramirez.

See? Michelle said. I told them that.

I need to stay— Chloe started.

No discussion. Dad came all the way into the room and waved his arms like he was directing a plane down a runway. Go now. Kaitlyn, your mom may let you decide your own schedule, but we don’t do things that way here. It’s either time for you to leave so my girls can go to school, or you can go with them. But either way, it is time to go.

Yeah, come on, girls, Michelle said. We don’t want to be late. She skipped out patting their dad on his cheek as she passed by him.

Chloe pushed out a forceful sigh, realizing she couldn’t do anything but go. Zipping her backpack, she led the way to the kitchen. Kaitlyn trailed her and her dad stayed close on their heels, complaining about how slowly they were moving.

Brittany, Chloe’s new stepmother, and Olivia, her new half sister, were in the kitchen eating breakfast. Brittany had on exercise clothes and was nibbling pink yogurt off a spoon. In her highchair, Olivia wore miniature black yoga leggings and an exercise tank matching Brittany’s, but her matching pink yogurt was all over her face and shirt with an occasional Cheerio stuck in it.

Brittany scrunched up her face at Chloe. I thought you already left for school. Since Chloe, Michelle, their mom Susan, brother Benji, and Nana had moved in after their house burned down in the fire, Brittany had never missed an opportunity to remind them they were imposing on her life. Her message fell on deaf ears since she was living in their house with their dad. She’d stolen their lives and she wouldn’t be getting any sympathy for having to put up with their intrusion. Except from Dad. He kept acting like it was all their fault for having nowhere else to go, when really it was his fault for abandoning his role as husband and father to take up with the new young chick who had little understanding of blended families. She wanted to forget the old family had ever existed.

We couldn’t have left yet, Michelle announced, false warmth oozing out with every word. You haven’t given us our milk money or kissed us goodbye, Brit. Michelle beamed a smile at Brittany until Brittany cocked back a spoon loaded with yogurt to fling at her.

Michelle, Dad scolded. Stop.

Why? Don’t you want us to get along, to love and kiss each other?

Dad rolled his eyes, unable as usual to come up with some way to manage Michelle.

Go to school, Chloe, he said. And take your sister with you.

Dad kissed Olivia and Brittany, who’d quickly lowered the cocked spoon before he turned around, and he left for work.

Kaitlyn followed his lead and hugged Brittany, who looked surprised and held her arms up out of the way like she’d never hugged anyone before. Then Kaitlyn kissed Olivia. We’d better go or we will be late, she said.

Wearing dinosaur pajamas, Benji burst into the kitchen flying his toy train through the air and making chugging noises through his clenched molars. Behind him followed the hollow aluminum click-drag of Nana’s walker against the hardwood floor. She appeared in the arched doorway with Chloe’s mom right behind her. Her mom squeezed impatiently around Nana, saying, "Mama, please," and presented herself to everyone in the kitchen.

Where’s Tony? she asked, looking toward the front door. I haven’t missed him again, have I? Her hair was perfect, her face painted, her heels hooker-high—everything about her screamed primp, preen, and gussy. In spite of Dad already having left her for a chick half her age, with half her wrinkles and twice her energy, Mom couldn’t accept that he didn’t notice her anymore. Every day since they’d moved in after the fire, she came into the kitchen like she was going to impress him and get him to give her the time of day. And pretty much every morning it didn’t happen.

He went to work, Mom, Michelle said with surprising gentleness. You look really pretty today. Michelle adjusted Mom’s earring that wasn’t hanging straight.

At least with Mom’s nerves and her past eating disorder, she had always been thinner than Brittany and could wear anything she wanted, and wear it well. All three of the original Dixon women found secret satisfaction that Brittany still hadn’t lost her chubby pregnancy weight.

Hi, Mrs. Dixon. You do look pretty, Kaitlyn said. You always do.

In spite of the compliment, Mom looked longingly at the door like any hope for a good day had just vanished out the door with Dad.

Brittany had no patience for any of it. Susan, please. Anthony is gone. Can we just get the day going here? I need some space. Everyone needs to get going. Take Grandma to daycare and get Benji to wherever he goes. This daily procrastination isn’t doing anyone any good.

Ooh, word point for that, Brit. A regular scholar now, huh? Michelle counted on her fingers as she mouthed procrastination.

"Four-, no five-syllable words and not even nine o’clock yet. Did you watch Sesame Street this morning or something?"

Brittany glared at Michelle, but at least she didn’t fling her yogurt at her.

Chloe couldn’t wait to go back and change things so that Brittany was no longer in their lives. Sure, Mom and Dad had had their problems, but who didn’t? At least when things got back to how they were supposed to be, they’d have the time they needed to work things out without an interloper like Brittany getting in the way.

Nana needs to eat something before she goes anywhere, and so does Benji, Chloe told Brittany. You can’t kick them out. That’d be really lame. She gave Nana and Benji kisses and said, I love you to each. Come on, Michelle, Kaitlyn. Let’s go to school. Mom, I hope you have a good day.

You too, Mom said, silently communicating a thank-you through her tired, sad eyes. See you later. Oh, remember I rescheduled the chipping appointment at four. Please don’t forget this time. They’ll charge me anyway. And Mrs. Pinkerton isn’t going to keep letting you attend class if you don’t get that taken care of. She’s tired of my notes to excuse you. And she isn’t shy about letting me know.

Chloe had no intention of letting anyone put a microchip and fiber optics in her brain, no matter how normal it was for everyone else. She didn’t plan on staying around long enough to have to fight against it. But she didn’t need her mom to worry about it.

Sure. Okay. I’ll remember.

She grabbed her cello and caught up with Michelle out in the driveway and, after putting the cello and her pack in the back, climbed into Kaitlyn’s ’77 Buick station wagon. As always, Michelle wouldn’t sit in the backseat, so she squeezed into the front, ordering Chloe to scoot over into the middle.

Some days I just want to tear Brittany’s lips right off her smirking mouth, Michelle said as she fastened her seatbelt. She is so mean to Mom.

Not much longer, Chloe said without thinking.

What? Are you going to off her or something? Not a good idea, Clo. Michelle pulled down the visor and opened the vanity mirror. She started putting on another layer of mascara. It will be hard to convince a judge you were temporarily insane now that you’ve established pre-meditation. They’d put Kaitlyn and me under oath, and though I’d never cave, Kaitlyn would not only tell them you planned it, but she’d probably lead them to the body. Of course, anyone who’s met Brit would understand, but they still have laws against that kind of thing.

I’m not going to break any laws. Not those kind of laws anyway.

Michelle screwed shut her mascara and sat back in the seat, flipping up the visor. "Uh-oh. You are planning something, aren’t you? All your weirdness has been for real. You’re not just pretending. What laws? What laws are you going to break?"

The Laws of Chronos. We’re going to go back in Time, Kaitlyn said as she pulled the car out from their neighborhood onto Colfax Avenue. Cello needs to fix the timeline, find Horace, and get him to stop Pan from changing everything. And I have to keep Little Sprout from disappearing.

"Wait a minute. I thought with Horace gone, all that didn’t matter anymore. You said he was going to fix things, not you. And you promised you wouldn’t make me disappear, or Olivia either."

I didn’t promise anything. Chloe didn’t mean to get defensive, but she hated being reminded what her decision would mean for her sisters.

"I’ll help you off Brittany, if that’s what you really want. Just don’t erase me, okay? And what’s ‘little sprout’?"

That’s my baby, Kaitlyn said. No hesitation, no preamble. She said it like everyone knew she was pregnant.

Baby? Michelle yelped. What are you talking about? Michelle reached across Chloe and put her hand on Kaitlyn’s baby bump. "You’re pregnant?"

Kaitlyn took one hand off the steering wheel and cupped it over Michelle’s hand. Isn’t it wonderful?

Does your mom think so?

She does. And so does my husband.

"Husband? You’ve got a husband? What in the world did you do this summer? Well, it’s clear one thing you did."

Kaitlyn laughed. Light, happy, purely joyful. So many good, wonderful things.

And you’re going to try to change it all? Michelle said, turning on Chloe. Why would you want to do that? Michelle let the question hang in the air, like a taunt.

And Chloe let it stay there. She didn’t want to erase anyone. She just believed she needed to reset reality to what it was supposed to be. Michelle would still be Michelle. Just with different memories. And who knew about Olivia, or Kaitlyn’s baby? Maybe they’d still exist, just in different circumstances. Who was Chloe to decide that their existence was more important than all the others who might have disappeared because of this new timeline?

When they got to school, Michelle jumped out of the car to go meet her friends, like she’d forgotten all her questions that had left Chloe’s mind reeling. Kaitlyn put the car in park and turned it off. She swept up Chloe’s hand and patted it.

You’ll do the right thing. I know you will.

Chloe wished she had as much confidence in herself as Kaitlyn did.

"We better go in. They might be in the mood again to persecute us for not getting chipped. I don’t want them bugging Mom—Rainbow—about me being tardy, Kaitlyn said. She has enough to worry about hosting her PETA meeting tonight and trying not to burn brownies for the bake sale tomorrow."

Chloe had totally forgotten the bake sale for orchestra. She had signed up to bring four dozen cookies to help raise money for their trip to San Diego. There was no time to worry about a tour that she wouldn’t be going on. Mr. Pozorski would have to rely on someone else to fund their trip.

I guess after your doctor’s appointment, they can’t bother you anymore about not being chipped.

Kaitlyn, I’m not getting chipped. I don’t care what anyone says. It’s not natural. I won’t be here for it to matter anyway. Satarel will come soon and I will be gone and my appointment this afternoon won’t exist anymore.

Kaitlyn looked at her with wide eyes. "We won’t be here. Right?"

Right. Yes. We better run. I think I just heard the first bell.

Chloe scooted across the seat and out the passenger door before Kaitlyn could look into her eyes one second longer with her innocent, trusting gaze. Chloe felt horrible having to mislead her like that. But it was the only way. It wouldn’t be safe for Kaitlyn. And Satarel probably wouldn’t even let her go. He just wanted to get his son back.

Kaitlyn came around the back of the station wagon at the same moment as Chloe and looked intently at her. Chloe tried to avoid her by opening the door and reaching for her stuff, but once she lifted out her cello, Kaitlyn took hold of her by the shoulders, hugging the instrument between them.

It’s okay, Cello. It will all work out. Whatever happens, you don’t have to think it’s all your responsibility. And really, I trust you. You’ll choose what you have to do. No matter what it is.

The guilt must have shown.

Kaitlyn said, What? What’s wrong?

Chloe never could hide anything from her.

Kaitlyn just waited, sweet and kind, while Chloe squirmed and tried to look everywhere but at Kaitlyn.

You don’t want me to go, do you?

I don’t think it will be safe, Chloe blurted, unable to keep it in another second. It’s not that I don’t want you there with me. I just don’t want something to happen to you. Again.

If I’m not worried about it, why should you be?

Because you just don’t worry about anything.

Is worry a good thing?

It might be what keeps us safe! Chloe exclaimed.

Wouldn’t being careful keep us safe? Worry just makes us upset, I think.

But—

Please? Kaitlyn asked. If you say no, okay. I just don’t want to lose my family.

She was begging, or at least as close to begging as Kaitlyn would get. Chloe loved her too much to ignore her pleas, even if the other timeline’s Kaitlyn wouldn’t know what had happened if the old timeline was restored. Chloe would know, and she’d never be able to live with herself.

Chloe said, Okay. You’re right. You’re coming with me. That’s all there is to it. We’re in this together.

I’m glad you said that. I’d like it to be that way, Kaitlyn said, picking up her viola from the back of the station wagon. Until they reached the steps and Chloe had to reposition her cello, Kaitlyn held her hand.

Even if it proved dangerous, Chloe knew she’d rather have Kaitlyn with her. Just like before, she’d need her to be by her side to help her find Horace, convince him to kill Pan, and to have her support and love through whatever happened.

CHAPTER 3

Using the temporary external microchips that the school had issued until they could get their broken chips repaired—the chips that weren’t even there because Chloe and Kaitlyn had come from a different timeline—the girls squeezed through the busy entryway of the school with the rest of the student body without setting off any alarms. They also made it through without any interference from Officer Ramirez, the resource officer who just loved to torment Chloe.

The mob of chattering students crowded through the main hallway of the old brick school, with part of the throng splitting off on both sides into two smaller branches where more hallways ran off the main one. Chloe and Kaitlyn maneuvered among the students with their cello and viola cases held closely in front of them. They skipped stopping at their lockers and went directly to the music hall and into orchestra class.

Kids were everywhere. All the brass section stood in a loose group by the risers, each person holding his horn casually, talking and laughing. Todd was among them with his trumpet, but luckily he didn’t see Chloe come in. She didn’t know what to do with him. He’d cheated on her with Rebecca, then apparently that had never happened in this new timeline. But now she was with Horace. It didn’t matter anymore what Todd had or hadn’t done.

A bunch of string players didn’t have their cases open yet and were looking at a girl’s new treble clef tattoo on her ankle. Two studious girls—one with her flute tucked across her lap while studying a hologram projected in front of her, and the other a bassoon player with her bassoon propped in a stand nearby as she concentrated on something beaming through her oculars—were in their chairs already, exhibiting why A-students got As. An oboist was tying off a new reed, using the back of the chair in front of her to hold the string. A weird new kid who had his cello balanced between his knees was in the back of the cello section trying to throw wadded paper balls at the oblivious bassoon player. He was a terrible shot and just filled the floor near the winds with crumpled wads of paper. Two boys were playing Frisbee with a tambourine, one standing behind the kettledrum and the other in the violin section. A girl and a boy were side-by-side on the piano bench playing some jazzed-up rendition of Chopsticks.

Chloe went to the chair next to the weird new kid and unpacked her graffiti-covered loaner cello from its frayed, stained cloth case. Kaitlyn sat next to her in the viola section. Kaitlyn should have been sitting principal viola, but she was too loyal of a friend and wouldn’t let Chloe go to the back of the section alone.

Amanda, the skanky cellist who’d taken first chair away from Chloe, sashayed by and broadcast at Chloe, Hey, what’s the difference between a violinist and God?

Since Amanda hated Chloe, she’d only be talking to Chloe to provoke her, put her down, or look good to someone else. Chloe quickly looked around and saw Darnell, the good-looking Black bass player who Jessie crushed on, standing close enough to overhear Amanda be cute. So she’s showing off for Darnell.

I don’t know. What? Chloe said. Why not ask? She was too worried about other things to even try to fight Amanda.

The difference is— Amanda glanced over to see if Darnell was listening. —God doesn’t think he’s a vi—

Pozorski’s on his way! some kid yelled into the chaotic room and sent everyone scrambling to their seats.

By the time Pozorski walked in, the room had transformed into a semblance of tranquility and order. The only indications that moments before everything had been out of control were the wadded paper balls all over the floor at the feet of the wind players and the tambourine still gyrating on the floor in front of Pozorski’s desk where it had crash-landed when the teacher’s arrival was frantically announced. The tambourine was just finishing the last of its warbling, around and around, before finally dropping flat on the floor when Pozorski walked around the end of the risers that backed up close to the door.

Good morning, musicians. How are we all this harmonious morning? In one hand he steadied a mug boldly printed with HOLD ME and a fermata. A messy stack of music was tucked between his other arm and his enormous body looking like any second the stack would shift and the music would spill every which way. He wore a pilled tan sweater vest that barely buttoned over his belly, and the nerdy look was punctuated with a blue polka dot bowtie peeking out from beneath his full, fleshy neck.

Good morning, Mr. Pozorski, the brass chanted together like they were in a fifth-grade boarding school class. He didn’t seem to notice their mockery.

Mr. Pozorski put down his coffee mug then released the stack of music onto his desk in a surprisingly controlled drop. He picked up his baton and stepped up onto his podium.

Brady, fetch your tambourine. It doesn’t belong on the floor. Let’s get right to it then, class. San Diego is only weeks away. He pushed some buttons on his conductor stand and several of the computerized music stands across the room came to life, paper thin monitors lighting up with the music for a Beethoven symphony displayed on them. "If your stands aren’t already on, now would be the time to switch them on. Molto allegro, people."

He pointed to the principal oboe player and asked her to play an A. Winds and brass tune first. After plenty of noise, including scale runs and bursts of notes from familiar song lines in the sheet music, he quieted everyone and told the strings to tune next.

Tricia, the concert master, took the A from the oboist and then signaled the strings to start tuning. Open strings in double stops, plus octave harmonics on the cellos, warped up and down around the correct pitches as everyone adjusted their pegs and fine tuners. Pozorski glanced at the back of the cellos and saw Chloe. His round face flushed bright red through his scraggly beard. His eyes opened wide behind his too-big glasses.

Without interrupting the tuning, he pushed his glasses up and mouthed at Chloe, What are you doing here?

Chloe got nervous. Does he know what I’m planning? Her thoughts raced through the possibilities, wondering how he could possibly know she was going back, what she should say, who would have told him—when she noticed the room had gone silent and everyone was watching Pozorski still trying to mouth something to her. She couldn’t tell what he was trying to say.

Finally, he stopped the exaggerated movements of his lips and just said, Please approach the podium, Miss Dixon.

She placed the sorry cello on its side by her chair and walked around the section to go to the front of the room where he waited on his raised platform. Everyone watched her. Pozorski glanced nervously behind Chloe and she realized Kaitlyn had followed right behind her and was standing two inches away.

She can listen, Chloe said, not sure he’d include her or not,